


Weight For Me

by Eveanyn



Series: Tumblr Prompts and Drabbles [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: CrossFit, F/F, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eveanyn/pseuds/Eveanyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean looked so graceful with a barbell in his hands. Castiel didn’t know that something as seemingly lumbering and awkward as weightlifting could even look anything close to elegant, but no one could deny it when watching this man.</p>
<p>Two classes in and Castiel Novak was a goner for his coach. His more-than-likely extremely hetero coach.</p>
<p>Such was his luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [relucant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/relucant/gifts).



> Un-beta'd. Mistakes are all mine. I wrote this because I can't stop thinking about how beautiful some people look while they work out. It was either finish this or write a paper for school, so obviously I did this.

Dean looked so graceful with a barbell in his hands. Castiel didn’t know that something as seemingly lumbering and awkward as weightlifting could even _look_ anything close to elegant, but no one could deny it when watching this man.

Two classes in and Castiel Novak was a goner for his coach. His more-than-likely extremely hetero coach.

Such was his luck.

 

o.O.o

 

Castiel had spent the majority of his life as a runner. He was great at it, if the ribbons and trophies he’d been collecting since Junior High were any indication. As a runner, he knew that cross-training was very important, so he rode his bike and did bodyweight workouts twice a week, all while keeping meticulous track of his macros.

Cas had been proud of himself for his training regimen, until he ran a Tough Mudder. The mileage—just over twelve—was pretty standard for him, but the obstacles were a whole other story. Castiel was a little embarrassed as to how little practical upper body strength he had.

He complained about it to his best friend, Charlie, who had run the race with him. “Obviously,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “You do push-ups. That’s it. You need constantly varied, high intensity, functional movement.” When he stared at her blankly she flicked his arm. “CrossFit! How many times have I said those exact words to you?”

Castiel had to admit that Charlie had a point. She had been going to a “box” (who calls a gym a box?) for just over six months and the results for her had been amazing. Red haired and naturally slender, she had always been a looker, but Charlie had gained more confidence (and phone numbers) since packing on some muscle. So he let her talk him into signing up for an introductory trial period that lasted two weeks. Charlie assured him it would change his life.

 

o.O.o

 

Castiel walked into CrossFit Hunter twenty minutes before the time his class was supposed to start. It was an old warehouse in the industrial part of town that had been transformed, the small office in front covered with pictures depicting something called the CrossFit Open, and beyond, rows of barbells, stacks of weights, kettlebells, and something Charlie had called a “rig” for doing pull-ups.

A man with chin-length hair was sitting behind the desk. He smiled when Castiel walked in. “Hi! Are you here for the Foundations class?” When Castiel nodded, the man extended his hand. They shook. “I’m Sam, one of the coaches here. Let’s go ahead and get you started. There’s just a bit of paperwork you have to fill out first.”

While Castiel filled out the waiver, Sam asked him how he had heard about them. At the mention of Charlie’s name, Sam laughed. “She’s a fun one, all right. That girl came in here as scrawny as can be, and now she can throw a whole lot of weight overhead. It’s great to see that kind of progress in such a short time.”

Castiel nodded. “I’ve rarely seen her happier. She had to go out and buy all new outfits for Moondor.”

“That LARPing place?”

Castiel was surprised. “You’ve heard of it?”

“My brother goes there from time to time. Charlie got him into it. She’s trying to make him her handmaiden.”

“That sounds like Charlie.”

Sam grinned and stood, offering his hand again. “It’s really nice to meet you, Castiel. Dean, my brother, is actually going to be the coach for Foundations. Head on in and hang out by the rig and Dean will be in soon. Have fun.”

Castiel shook Sam’s hand again, nodding his thanks, and walked into the large, open area. He found some other beginners congregating near the rig and walked uncertainly towards them.

He nervously stood off to the side, not mingling with the other newcomers. When it came to small talk with new people he was awkward at best, so he figured he had a better chance of not being deemed a social disaster if he just kept quiet.

At five minutes to seven the most beautiful man Castiel had ever seen walked in from the office area. He was roughly the same height as Castiel, but he was built bigger, muscles straining against his tight t-shirt. Castiel wasn’t a small man by any means, but this newcomer made him feel as though he had been doing fitness wrong up until that point.

The easy gait and confident smile led him to believe that this was their coach. His suspicion was confirmed when the man opened his (perfectly formed) mouth and yelled out, “All right, seven o’clock class, come on over!”

The newcomers gathered around him in a loose semi-circle and stood silently as he assessed them. After a quick moment he slapped his hands together and grinned gleefully. “Welcome to CrossFit Hunter! How’s everyone doing tonight?” This was met by a few nervous ‘good’s and some small nods. Castiel’s eyes remained firmly fixed on the freckled face of the coach. He didn’t move.

The coach nodded, unperturbed by the slightly unenthusiastic reaction he’d gotten. “My name is Dean, and I’ll be your coach for the next two weeks. My brother Sammy and I own this place. We’ve been doing CrossFit for about six years now, and we opened up the box three years ago. In CrossFit we call our gyms ‘boxes’. You’ll get used to all the terminology here. So let’s start out with some introductions.”

They went around the room, each person introducing themselves and giving a small background of their fitness experience. Castiel’s face was burning by the time his turn came around, but he managed to keep what he thought was an appropriate amount of eye contact and he didn’t stumble over his words. He must have been socially appropriate enough because Dean smiled at him the whole time, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the Tough Mudder.

“Good! So we’ve got quite a various background. We’ll go over some of the basics first about what CrossFit is and what kind of movements it entails, then we’ll get to it.”

Dean walked up to the whiteboard behind him and began writing some things down while he was talking. Castiel tried to pay very close attention, but it was difficult when all he could think of were adjectives to describe Dean’s voice. Rough. Velvet. Honey.

Castiel was brought out of his reverie by Dean asking them all to line up on the turf that covered half the wareho—box. He led them through some ballistic warm-ups, neatly demonstrating each movement first. Then he asked them all to grab a long, narrow tube of PVC pipe. They were roughly the diameter and length of a barbell.

Castiel watched as Dean went over some basic movements. He spoke as he demonstrated what was called a clean, telling them to watch how he moved as did a ‘dip, drive, and shrug’, pushed his hips back, and drove his knees outward. It was a good thing that Castiel was asked to watch Dean carefully, because there was absolutely no way he would have been able to tear his eyes away from the fluid movements.

Dean walked around the room after that, watching each person in turn as they executed the same movements, making a correction here and there. He watched Castiel for a moment, one arm laying across his chest with the elbow of his other arm resting on top of it, hand placed against his mouth. When Castiel finished the movement he said, “Good. Now I want you to think about bringing your hips forward more. Really pop them. I want the bar to hit right here—” he placed his hand at Castiel’s hipbone, “before you really start to pull. Try one more time.”

Trying not to blush furiously at the contact, Castiel did the movement one more time. Against his wishes, he could feel his face redden when Dean slapped his shoulder. “That’s it! Perfect. Okay, guys, moving on! I want you to grab a barbell and set up mid-shin. We’ll go over it one more time before we throw on some weights.”

Castiel went through the remainder of the pre-workout portion of the class with his shoulder practically burning in the place Dean had touched. He told himself it didn’t mean anything that Dean hadn’t touched any of the other students, and not only had he touched him while correcting his movements, but he had also given him a congratulatory pat.

All thoughts of Dean’s touch were driven out of Castiel’s mind the minute the workout started. Charlie had warned him that the workouts themselves—a WOD, or Workout of the Day, as they were called—were more intense than what Castiel would be used to, but he hadn’t quite anticipated what she meant.

Being a marathon runner, Castiel had amazingly strong quads, but his glutes were admittedly those of someone who did mostly cardio. They burned before he had completed the first ten reps.

He was concentrating so hard on performing the movements without dying that he wasn’t even preoccupied by Dean as he walked around checking everyone’s form.

Finally Castiel finished the last set of cleans and burpees and collapsed on the floor next to the barbell, breath coming in gasps. Dean walked up to him and offered a high five. “Nice job, dude,” he grinned down at Castiel. “Good work.”

Castiel could only managed a nod and a weak smile in return. That had been hell. He was utterly exhausted.

He couldn’t wait to come back tomorrow.

 

o.O.o

 

 

The next day found Castiel staring as Dean demonstrated a ‘snatch’ (they must be aware that these names had very sexual connotations). The way he moved under the bar reminded Castiel of a dance, one that ended with Dean on top of him, sweat mixing with pre-come as he licked a stripe up Castiel’s neck and sucked on his jaw while his hips ground against him and he was whispering _more, please Dean, more—_

“You with us, Cas?” Dean’s mouth was smiling, but his eyes were slightly worried. Castiel looked around, noticing that everyone else was moving to get a barbell and weights for the WOD. He looked back at Dean nervously.

“Yes, Dean, everything is fine. I was merely lost in thought for a moment.”

“That’s cool. Well, the weight buffet is open, go get all you can eat.”

Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I do not understand. We’re supposed to eat the weights?”

Dean threw his head back and laughed with his whole body. Even confused, Castiel noted that it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

“Uh, it’s a figure of speech. I just meant that you can go ahead and load up your bar, man.”

Castiel nodded and set about doing the math of how much each plate should weigh in order to come to the correct amount of weight.

He loaded up the bar and did a few reps to see how it felt. Dean came over to watch. “Okay, so you’ve got the general idea, but I need you to keep your back straight when you begin your pull and when you catch the bar. Focus on sending your hips back first and it’ll keep you linear from here,” he put two fingers on Castiel’s shoulder, “to here,” he trailed the fingers all the way down to the hip joint and kept it there for a moment before clearing his throat and stepping back. “Let me see it again.”

Castiel took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach that had nothing to do with concern over his form. He told himself to focus on the task at hand. Castiel was an efficient worker. He could complete the task laid before him. Keeping his attention on ensuring his hips were back, he made the lift. While the bar was still overhead he looked over at Dean, who nodded and gave a thumbs up.

The butterflies turned into a warm glow at the thumbs up, and remained there until “3, 2, 1, go”. Then he had no room to focus on wonderful developing feelings. He focused on his breath, on sending his hips back, and on shrugging his shoulders before pulling the bar overhead.

Sweaty and smiling, Castiel finished the WOD and gave the customary high-five to everyone. They walked over to a shelf of foam rollers and each grabbed one. Dean settled on the floor with them and showed them which places they should be focusing on in order to have the greatest effect on their muscles.

Sam and another large man with a beard came over and joined them with foam rollers of their own. Castiel learned that the large man’s name was Benny and that he was another coach. He wasn’t happy with how close Benny was to Dean while they both rolled out, but he forced himself to be reasonable. Benny and Dean were obviously friends, and it was still more than likely that Dean himself was a heterosexual.

Most of the Foundations class members left after a few minutes, leaving Castiel and another new member, Kevin, with the three coaches.

He let the banter flow around him, preferring to keep quiet and learn as much about the beautiful man with the impossibly green eyes as he could. Dean watched Game of Thrones but hadn’t read the books, saying it took him too long to read and he couldn’t get past the first chapter anyway. He was almost caught up on The Walking Dead, and he would skewer Sam in his sleep if spoilers were revealed before he had a chance to watch it. He liked Batman comics and was a bigger DC fan than Marvel, though Captain America was a really ‘badass guy’.

That started a conversation as to whether Steve Rogers’ true love was Peggy or Bucky. Benny was a firm believer that Peggy was it for Steve, and Bucky was just a friend. “No way, dude,” Dean turned on his side to look at Benny in disbelief. “How is Bucky not the main love interest?”

Sam sided with Dean. “I understand that with the heteronormative culture we’re in, it would be unacceptable for a massive audience bringer like Captain America to outright put a gay relationship in your face—especially one that took place in the ‘40s—but it’s clear as day if you actually pay attention.”

Kevin agreed with Benny. “Why else would he come back to her? She owes him a dance! How do you not cry at the beauty of that lost love?!”

Dean snorted and looked at Castiel. “All right, Cas. You’re the tie-breaker. Stucky or Steggy?”

Castiel considered this very seriously. He had read most of the Captain America comics, and he had actually watched the movies thanks to Charlie. He took a moment to just stare at Dean while it was socially appropriate. If he answered in the way he wanted, there was a good chance that Dean could act differently towards him. However, Castiel was not a fan of hiding who he was from anyone, and if Dean were unable to accept Castiel then he had no place in being the object of a crush. “I had always thought it was my own bias towards homosexuality that made me see the subtext of Bucky and Steve. I was unaware that other people felt the same way.”

Dean grinned widely and held out his fist to Castiel. He’d seen this before. He formed his own hand into a fist and placed his knuckles in the space between Dean’s own. Since his expression had not altered and he had initiated physical contact, Castiel assumed that Dean was accepting of his sexual preference.

“Owned, Lafitte. Fucking owned.” Dean repeated the fist movement with Sam, who then turned to trade it with Castiel.

“Though, to be fair, I’m pretty sure that both Bucky and Steve are bisexual, not gay,” Dean clarified.

“No! Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam scoffed. “Bucky is gay, Steve is bi. There’s no other way around it. Bucky used girls as beards, but he never really enjoyed it. Steve actually had a thing for Peggy because he and Bucky had a fight and Bucky told him to get on with his life. He didn’t want Steve to be ridiculed and they broke up over it right before Bucky shipped out. It wasn’t until after Steve rescued Bucky and the rest of his unit that they got back together. They definitely had a fight over Peggy in the bar, though. She was hitting hard on Steve and Bucky got jealous.”

“I would have to agree with Sam,” Castiel murmured, looking down at the floor.

“No! No way. Bucky is bi.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, not every guy who likes guys has to be bi. Just because you associate more with Bucky doesn’t mean that he _has_ to be what you want him to be.”

Castiel blinked. Dean _associated_ with Bucky, and he wanted it known that James Buchannan Barnes was a bisexual. Could that mean …?

Benny laughed. “It’s just ‘cause you’re jealous, brother. Bucky got better looking women than you ever do, and his were just beards.”

Dean scowled but remained silent. Castiel looked down, struggling to find a casual way to bring up Dean’s own sexuality and relationship status that didn’t seem like he was desperately crushing on the man.

“Speaking of love interests, Castiel, anyone special in your life?” Sam surprised Castiel with the question.

“Oh, um. No. I am not seeing anyone at the moment.” He breathed slowly in through his nose, held it to the count of three, and let it back out. He would not blush, would not look at Dean, would not let his infatuation show.

Castiel could almost hear the grin in Benny’s southern drawl, though he didn’t understand why. “I sense some bitterness there, brother. You lookin’ for that someone special? Or maybe just a quick ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’? I know of a couple of girls who are into no-strings-attached nights if you’d like me to set you up.”

There was no stopping the blush from heating his face now. “I appreciate your willingness to assist, Benny, but that … I do not engage in sexual congress outside of a monogamous relationship. Also, I do not view women in a, that is, I am not attracted to … I’m gay.”

Sam clapped Castiel on the shoulder. “Be thankful for that. Those girls would pounce on you and insert their claws so deep you’d have marks for _days_. At least you have a valid excuse for turning them down.”

Dean laughed. “Oh, man. That’s right. It took you _forever_ to get Becky off your back. I still don’t think she believes you that you’re not interested. Does she still bring you coffee on Wednesdays?”

Sam grimaced. “Yes. Speaking of which, I want to trade shifts with you. I’ll bring you pie once a week for a month if you take over Wednesday mornings for me.”

The most beautiful smile appeared on Dean’s face. His eyes practically sparkled. “Make it twice a week and you’ve got a deal.” They each spit in their palm and shook hands. Castiel didn’t think it was a very hygienic way to confirm a deal. If he made a deal with Dean he would much rather seal it with a kiss.

“How do you eat pie twice a week and still look like that?” Kevin asked, abruptly taking Castiel out of a fantasy of Dean’s lips on his throat, fingers trailing down his chest—

“Kevin, Kevin, Kevin.” Dean shook his head. “This is why you have us. You count your macros. Make it fit. I’ll give you guys a nutrition seminar on the last day of class if you’re interested.”

“Dean has a very … distinct way of counting his macros. Most of us eat at least 70/30 Paleo, and if Dean’s abhorrent diet disgusts you, come find me and we’ll talk.”

“Sam, you cannot live off of rabbit food! I’m a warrior.”

“Dean, just stop.”

“A warrior must be strong. I need meat. And pie.”

“Oh my god.” Sam rolled his eyes. This was apparently a long-standing argument between them.

“Back me up here, Cas,” Dean pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Dean. If I agreed with you, then we’d both be wrong.” He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Dean hadn’t broken eye contact, either. There was a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, and Castiel’s mind went into overdrive when Dean’s tongue reached out and licked his perfectly formed bottom lip.

Benny stood, distracting them. “All right, brothers. I’ve got to get going. Andrea’s making pie for dessert.” He waggled his eyebrows at Dean.

“You fucker.”

Benny just grinned. “Night, all. Nice to meet you, Kevin. Castiel.” He tipped an imaginary hat before sauntering off in a somehow decidedly southern swagger.

Kevin looked at his watch and got to his feet. “Yeah, it’s getting late. I guess that’s my cue, too.” He gathered his things and waved a nervous goodbye.

Castiel didn’t want to leave, but it was now just himself, Dean, and Sam. He expected that typical social protocol meant he should have gotten up at the same time Kevin did, and that every minute he stayed now overstayed his welcome. He forced himself to gather his things and stand. The brothers were both on their feet now, too. Castiel put one hand up in a half-wave. “Goodnight.”

Sam flashed a friendly grin. “’Night, Castiel.”

Dean reached out his warm, calloused hand and clapped it on Castiel’s shoulder. “Have a good one, Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Castiel could only manage a nod. His eyes roamed Dean’s face of their own accord, and he licked his suddenly dry lips. Then Dean cleared his throat and stepped away.

He felt the warmth of Dean’s hand the entire ride home.

 

o.O.o

 

Foundations passed quickly with no more lingering touches from Dean, though he was liberal with his verbal praises and high fives. Castiel had come no closer to determining what Dean’s sexual orientation was, or even his relationship status.

He signed up as a permanent member, earning him a slap on the back and a, “Good to see you on board, man,” from Dean.

He quickly settled into a routine, frequently attending the same classes as Charlie. She didn’t seem to mind that he had adjusted his work schedule so that three of the five classes he attended each week were taught by Dean. Charlie worked from home most of the time as a freelance IT consultant, making her schedule very flexible.

Castiel and Charlie worked out well together. They competed in almost every WOD. Charlie usually beat him when the workout contained gymnastics movements like pull-ups or handstand push-ups, but when it came to moving a barbell, Castiel was becoming a master.

Sam frequently commented on this during the Wednesday evening class he coached. “You have come such a long way, Castiel. I wouldn’t be able to tell by your form that you’ve only been here…what, two months?”

Castiel nodded. “It seems my mobility works in my favor.” He had always been quite flexible, and apparently a high amount of flexibility in the hips, hamstrings, ankles, and shoulders were required to be able to successfully complete many of the movements CrossFit favored.

“Well, keep it up, man. You’re doing great.” Sam put out his fist for Castiel to ‘pound’ (he overheard someone using the word and assumed it was the appropriate vernacular) and he returned the gesture. He enjoyed Sam as a coach. He had a different perspective than Dean, and sometimes his approach assisted Castiel in correctly executing a movement. He found himself looking forward to having Sam as a coach once a week. Sam was very knowledgeable. Castiel would get into conversations with him about why certain movements worked in certain ways with the body, and how muscle breakdown was incorporated into the planning of the WODs. This segued into conversations about scientific books, and then books in general.

He thought Sam might become a good friend. Perhaps he could use this friendship to gain knowledge about Dean. It seemed slightly dishonest, but Castiel decided that friends tended to help their friends when it came to romantic situations. Perhaps if Sam were single Castiel could introduce him to his brother. Charlie had confided in him that Sam was pansexual, and that they’d initially met through an LGBTQA forum. He thought that Gabriel might make a good counterbalance to Sam’s usually serious demeanor.

*

Saturdays were Castiel’s favorite days to work out. Dean and Sam always joined the 8:00am class while Benny coached. Saturdays were almost always partner workouts, so he and Charlie would team up against Sam and Dean. They had a fun banter of taunting and challenges (which were typically returned by Charlie; Castiel still wasn’t sure enough of his sense of humor compared to theirs to comment too often). Dean and Sam always beat them, but there were times when they got close.

The first time Castiel told Benny the team name he had come up with for himself and Charlie, Dean lost it. When he laughed, he did it with his whole body, hand coming up to grab Castiel for support. “The…The Great,” he choked out, wiping tears from his eyes, “The Great Gay Duo.”

Charlie looked at Dean like he’d lost his mind. “It’s funny, Dean, but it’s not _that_ funny.” Dean just wiped his eyes and kept chuckling.

It was the best part of Castiel’s weekend. He looked forward to those workouts the most, especially when it was challenging enough that Dean took his shirt off. Afterwards, he would come up to Castiel and give him a high five, out of breath and chest glistening with sweat. Castiel often used those images when he was in the shower. It was sometimes embarrassing how quickly he spent himself when he thought of Dean.

*

Charlie often cajoled Castiel into going out after their Friday evening workouts. He made sure to pack a towel and change of clothes on those days just in case, and he had to use them more often than not. They’d go to a place called The Roadhouse a few miles away from CrossFit Hunter and have a couple drinks. Castiel was partial to their cheeseburgers, and Charlie was partial to the pretty blond bartender/waitress, Jo.

These Friday nights had grudgingly made their way into one of Castiel’s favorite times to look forward to. Charlie made plans for her Moondor campaigns, and bounced ideas off of Castiel for the D&D tabletop she was Dungeon Master for. He regaled her with tales of his brother’s antics, and counted it a win for the times his dry humor got her laughing so hard she snorted beer out of her nose.

They were fairly content with how things were going. Jo would come visit them when she got bored, and neither Castiel nor Charlie could determine what (if any) gender Jo preferred, or whether or not she had a significant other. It was frustrating to Charlie that the two people she most wanted to know the sexual preferences of she couldn’t determine. Normally her gaydar was spot on.

Wallowing in ambiguity, neither of them were prepared when one night, about three months after their weekly ritual began, Jo was suddenly running around the bar and flying tackling a man who looked strangely like Dean. A very tall man with shaggy hair stood next to him. But it couldn’t be Dean. He could not be dating Jo. There was no reason for the tightness in Castiel’s chest.

“Um, I’m guessing that’s a point for the straight,” Charlie muttered, taking a long pull of her beer.

“And a point for ‘taken’,” Castiel agreed. His night had been going so well, too. He felt the disappointment surge through him and tried to force it down. It wasn’t going away, so he tried to drink it down. That helped a little.

Jo finally disentangled herself from Dean and, to Castiel’s utter surprise, flung herself at Sam in the same way. All three of them had big, dumb grins on their faces. Charlie and Castiel looked at each other. Charlie shrugged.

“I’ve got nothing.”

He was sure that Dean and Sam were not in some incestuous polyamorous relationship, so there needed to be some other explanation. Or was he just getting his hopes up?

Castiel quirked an eyebrow as Dean reached out to ruffle Jo’s hair. That wasn’t a gesture he would categorize as one that someone would use with a lover, but more like what someone would use with a sibling.

It got even stranger as Jo turned and yelled back into the kitchen, “Mom! Sam and Dean are here!” and a moment later an older blond woman, presumably Jo’s mother, walked out from the back room. She gave Sam and Dean each a quick hug, then smacked both of them upside their heads.

Dean rubbed the back of his head. “Ow! What the hell, Ellen?”

“Don’t you ‘what the hell’ me, boy,” Ellen said, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “You work not four miles from here and it takes you _three weeks_ to come visit? Not a peep out of you. Ever heard of a damn phone?”

Dean looked at the floor. “Sorry, Ellen,” he mumbled.

Sam smiled apologetically. “Yeah, sorry, Ellen.”

Ellen nodded. “All right. You boys sit down and I’ll bring you out something. Then we can catch up. Jo, you get back to work.” With that, Ellen turned around and walked back through the door to the kitchen.

Other than some older regulars sitting at the bar, Charlie and Castiel were the only patrons at the moment. Jo flashed a quick grin as she walked over to their table. “Are you guys okay, or can I get you anything else?”

Castiel threw a glance towards the door where Dean was still standing. He hadn’t noticed them yet. “Beer,” he got out. “I’m going to need another beer.”

Charlie nodded. “And bring us a couple of shots of whatever your top-shelf vodka is. Put it on my bill.”

With a dazzling smile at Charlie (“Did you _see_ that smile, Cassie?!”) (“I saw. I’ll start planning your wedding, then, shall I?”) (“Yes, please. Right after you go fuck yourself.”) Jo went behind the bar to get their drinks.

Dean and Sam had sidled up to the bar and were leaning against it, talking to Jo. It wasn’t until she started moving back to the booth Castiel and Charlie were seated in that Dean noticed them.

“Hey, Cas! How’s it going, man?” Dean’s wide smile was enough to make Castiel’s heart pound a little harder in his chest. Charlie sent him a knowing look and he kicked her leg under the table.

Dean slid in next to Castiel, and Sam sat next to Charlie. Jo gave a confused look between them. “You guys know each other?”

Castiel downed his shot as soon as it hit the table. Charlie was close behind.

Sam eyed them both sideways before answering Jo. “Yeah. They both come to our box. Charlie and Castiel, Jo Harvelle. Jo, Charlie Bradbury and Castiel Novak.”

“Oh,” Jo looked startled. “So you two…you’re not together?”

Dean laughed and pat Castiel’s thigh. It tingled. “The Great Gay Duo here? Come on, Jo, I thought bartenders were supposed to be able to read people.”

“I can tell that you’re an asshole, Dean Winchester.”

“Fair enough. Hey, get me a pint of the microbrew and a bacon cheeseburger, extra onions, hold the pickle.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Heart attack waiting to happen. Sam? Microbrew and salmon?”

Sam smiled. “You know me too well, Jo. Yes, please.”

Jo cast a quick glance at Charlie again before she walked away. Dean didn’t fail to notice.

“So, Charlie. You and Jo—” he waggled his eyebrows.

Charlie narrowed her eyes. “Watch it, handmaiden. I can demote you to scullery maid in a heartbeat.”

“Whoa there, tiger. Easy. I was just saying that Jo was trying really hard to not let us know she was getting an eyeful.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully, looking at Charlie. “Yeah, I could see it. She doesn’t normally go for girls, but you’re definitely her type for when she does.” He jumped when Charlie poked a finger in his side.

“You lie to me, Winchester, and I will hack your computer and post all your dirty little secrets on Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr and every other social media site in existence.”

Sam held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Whoa, Charlie. Scout’s honor.”

Charlie studied him for another moment before nodding and taking a pull of her beer. “Good.”

“Well, one down,” Castiel muttered under his breath. He clearly did this without thinking because—

Dean turned towards him. “One down what, Cas?”

Castiel turned towards Charlie, his eyes huge and naked panic written on his face. It was too bad that Charlie wasn’t always one to take pity on her friends. She turned her face so only Castiel could see her wink. He paled.

“We were just wondering what team Jo played for.”

“…Okay. So one down. Does that mean you’re wondering about someone else?” Dean wasn’t side-eyeing him. He couldn’t be. There was no reason under the sun for Dean Winchester to be very distinctly not-looking-at-Castiel and fidgeting slightly. Oh, Lord.

“Well, obviously, Dean. You’re an enigma,” Charlie happily supplied. She dodged the foot Castiel kicked towards her easily. “Whose team are you on?”

Dean sat back and grinned, taking a moment to wink at Jo as she passed out the drinks to the table, then taking a sip of his beer. He leaned in towards Castiel—it had to be on purpose, the ass—and murmured in his ear, “Why did you want to know, Cas?”

There probably wasn’t enough beer in this bar to help Castiel. There also weren’t any good exits for him to dart to, seeing as Dean was blocking him into the booth. The only possible response was oral. With words, not his mouth. Well, he’d have to use his mouth to form words, but not _that_ kind of oral. And damn it, he just did it again. Now he couldn’t help but glance at Dean’s lips and then downwards, thinking about what other uses his lips and tongue could be put to.

_Do not get an erection, Castiel. It would be unseemly to do so right now._

He took a deep breath and said the first thing that came to mind that wasn’t phallic in nature. “Charlie was curious.” There. Now _she’d_ have to come up with a logical explanation.

A quick glance at Charlie told Castiel that he was in trouble for trying to put the responsibility on her. “Well, yeah, Dean. How else am I going to play matchmaker between you and Mr. Blue Eyes?”

Dean choked on his beer. He seemed to be using looking at his phone as an excuse to not look at Castiel. “Well, I’ve got to get going. I, uh, have to detail my baby tomorrow, and she’s finicky so it could take all day.”

Castiel felt his gut clench. “Is that a euphemism for sex?” Dean threw back his head and laughed. Castiel smiled nervously and glanced between Sam and Charlie.

Sam was frowning. “Dean, we haven’t even gotten our food yet.”

Castiel wasn’t sure, but he thought there was a faint blush rising up Dean’s neck. “Yeah, well, Cas can have it. Here,” he pulled out his wallet and threw down a couple of bills. “Tell Jo I said ‘bye’. Hope you like the burger, Cas.” Before anyone else could say anything, he was out the door, leaving three very bewildered people staring at each other.

Heat was rising up Castiel’s cheeks and he excused himself to go to the restroom to splash cold water on his face. He wasn’t there to hear Charlie bet Sam ten dollars that it would have to be up to Castiel to make the first move. He didn’t hear Sam say that it was shameful for Charlie to try to place bets on his brother’s love life. He also didn’t hear Sam tell her she was wrong and that he bet her fifty dollars that Dean would be the first nut to crack.

Castiel didn’t know the absolute certainty his best friend and the brother of his crush had that it was an inevitability that he and Dean would get together. He didn’t know that across town Dean was resting his forehead against the Impala’s steering wheel and cursing himself for being an idiot and not taking advantage of the situation by asking Castiel out. He only knew the painful twist in his chest at the obvious rejection, and the hot sting of tears in his eyes that he wiped away forcefully.

He didn’t eat the burger.

 

o.O.o

 

Castiel adjusted his work schedule again. He now only took classes with Sam and Benny and stopped showing up on Saturdays. He didn’t speak to anyone, ignored the concerned looks from Sam and Charlie, and left immediately after each class.

He was miserable.

Fridays came and went, and Castiel stayed home, wallowing in self-pity (and not crying). He ignored Charlie’s insistence that they talk about it. After a while he stopped returning her calls because it was all she brought up. Her texts became angry, and she threatened to break the servers at his work by sending out a virus from his computer if he didn’t talk to her. He relented, telling her that he could make their normal Friday time work provided it was at his house.

*

When he opened the door Friday evening, Castiel half-expected Charlie to have played some kind of trick on him by bringing Sam along or forcing him to watch the entire Harry Potter collection on DVD. Thankfully she did neither, merely proffering beer as she walked in. “This is some awesome beer that Jo’s stepdad made. Drink it with me and your woes will melt away.”

“I doubt that very much, Charlie,” Castiel muttered, but he took a drink anyway and gestured for her to sit down. “It is quite good. You said—wait, you said _Jo’s_ stepdad made it? Does that mean…?”

The Cheshire Cat had nothing on Charlie’s grin. “Yup! We’ve been on two dates and it’s going great. Which,” she added, smile disappearing, “you would _know_ if you bothered to answer my calls or fucking talk to me. I mean, Jesus, Cassie, you _get the impression_ that you got blown off by a guy and you go all Ben Kenobi on us and hermit yourself away on Tatooine. It’s been a month. A month, Castiel. I had to put Dean in the kitchens _twice_ because he couldn’t do his handmaiden duties. The guy is positively moping.”

Castiel sat down hard. He didn’t want to let that shameful burst of hope in his chest get too big. Besides, he’d already analyzed that night for hours on end and hadn’t come up with a conclusion more plausible than _he doesn’t want me_. “I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with me, Charlie. He was happily telling me about ‘detailing’ some woman. Perhaps she decided to be detailed somewhere else.”

“You know, sweetie, for such a smart guy, you’re kind of an idiot sometimes.” Charlie’s face had lost its hard edge and she was now smiling fondly at him. “There was no woman. He was talking about his car.”

He blinked. Opened his mouth, closed it without talking. His brow furrowed. He looked down. Looked back up at Charlie. Opened his mouth again. “Are you sure?”

Now Charlie was laughing outright. “You’ve never heard of him referring to his car as ‘Baby’? Come on, Cassie, I thought you memorized everything the guy said.”

Castiel blushed but remained silent on the matter.

“So I’m here to tell you you’re being an idiot. Dean likes you. He’s into guys. Well, he’s normally into girls and only recently admitted out loud that he liked guys, but right now he’s very specifically into _guy_. Just one. And he’s being almost as much of an asshole this week as you are. He’s drinking at The Roadhouse right now. Please go get him and put me out of my misery.”

“Why the hell are _you_ miserable?” he grumbled.

“Sam and I have a bet. Fifty bucks to me if you admit to Dean first that you want to see what kind of wood his wand is made out of.”

Castiel pondered this very seriously for a moment. “If I win you this bet, you do not get to rub it in.”

“I won’t be the one rubbing it if you win me this bet.” Charlie stuck her tongue out at him when Castiel flipped her off.

“Fine. Get out of my apartment. Leave the beer.”

 

*

 

His body couldn’t seem to understand what it should be doing. Castiel was standing in front of The Roadhouse, nervously jangling his keys in his palm. He should be walking through the door right now, but neither of his feet were taking the initiative and he couldn’t remember if there was a special override command for when they didn’t cooperate.

The door suddenly opened and an elderly couple walked out. They were holding hands. Castiel stared at them for a moment longer than he should have. That was what he wanted. He wanted someone who would love him long enough to hold his hand when he was eighty. The only way to find out if Dean could be that man was to walk through that door and ask him. Resolved, he walked inside.

The Roadhouse was dim and noisy, in full Friday night swing. Even with as many people as there were there, it didn’t take Castiel very long to locate Dean at the end of the bar, head bowed over a glass of what was inevitably whiskey. Castiel reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, watching Dean’s brow furrow as he turned around to tell him off.

When he noticed it was Castiel, he stopped, mouth agape. “Cas,” was all he managed to get out.

“Hello, Dean.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

Dean didn’t look convinced. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been avoiding me for the last month. I hadn’t realized that I’d been cured of the plague.”

Castiel felt the heat rise to his face. “Is there any chance we can talk about this outside where there are fewer onlookers?”

Dean stared—okay, glared—at Castiel for a long minute before he turned to Jo and told her he’d settle up with them later. A minute later found them in the Impala, the sound of their breathing almost too loud in the oppressive closeness of the cab.

Castiel broke the silence. “I apologize for my behavior. It was rude of me to cut off all contact with no explanation.”

“You’re damned right it was. I mean, what the hell, Cas? One minute we’re eating dinner together and the next minute I’m a fucking leper! You don’t even show up to class anymore. I get that you decided you don’t like me, but I at least need a fucking reason as to why.” Dean was breathing hard, his face flushed. He looked beautiful.

“I don’t dislike you, Dean,” Castiel whispered. He looked down, fingers tracing patterns in the upholstery of the car. “The opposite, in fact. I like you far too much.”

“Then why the silent treatment? I don’t see how liking someone and ignoring them for an entire goddamn month add up to the same thing.”

“You…you talked about detailing your ‘baby’. I thought you meant you had a girlfriend. I was embarrassed.”

Dean looked at Castiel for a long moment. “You thought I was dating my car?”

Castiel nodded miserably. “It seemed logical at the time.” He was looking down at his lap, which would explain why he didn’t realize Dean had moved closer until he felt his hand at the back of his neck. Castiel looked up, and then they were kissing.

It was like being on fire in the most delicious of ways. Dean’s mouth was hot and wet on his, nibbling and teasing before moving on, down his jawline to his throat and then— _oh, God_ —he hit that spot right behind his ear. Castiel sucked in a harsh breath, pressing forward into Dean’s mouth without realizing it.

“Come home with me.” It was murmured between kisses, almost too soft for Castiel to hear. But then Dean stopped and pulled back, looking Castiel in the eye. “Come home with me,” he repeated.

Castiel shook his head. “I only have sex within the confines of a serious, monogamous relationship.”

“I know.” Dean smiled, kissed him softly. “Come home with me.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You asked for porn, so I gave you porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For relucant.

Castiel insisted on at least some semblance of a date, so Dean picked up beer and a pizza on the way back to his apartment. Castiel sent off a text to Charlie saying she’d won the bet and could celebrate by not talking to him for the next twenty-four hours. She texted back almost immediately. _Happy Sex! Use protection, I don’t want to be an Aunt._

Dean was quiet all the way to his apartment, but he kept sneaking glances at Castiel, and his right hand kept twitching towards him, like he was thinking about holding his hand. Castiel wondered if Dean was beginning to regret his decision. His fears were allayed, though, because once they were inside and the pizza and beer were on the table, Dean boxed him in against the counter and smiled down at him.

His eyes raked across Castiel’s face as if memorizing it. Hands trailed slowly up Castiel’s arms, over his shoulders and cupping his face. Dean’s thumbs rubbed gentle circles across cheekbones as his gaze settled on pink, chapped lips.

He leaned in, lips almost brushing against Cas’, and murmured, “So, you’d like to be ‘within the confines of a serious, monogamous relationship’ with me?”

Castiel’s breath hitched, and his hands settled against Dean’s hips. He nodded. “Yes, Dean,” he whispered. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Dean closed the rest of the distance between them and nibbled gently on Castiel’s bottom lip. Castiel moaned into Dean’s mouth and slipped his tongue in to explore at a leisurely pace. Everywhere Dean touched branded into Castiel’s skin, claiming him.

Castiel didn’t allow himself to get so lost in Dean that they became unaware of themselves. After only a couple of minutes, he pulled back and rested his forehead against Dean’s, and took his hands out from under Dean’s shirt. “We should probably eat the pizza before it gets cold.”

Dean stared. “Pizza,” he said. “I’m trying out some of my sweetest moves, and you’re going to ignore me for pizza.”

“Not at all, Dean. I intend to pretend this isn’t our first date and ravish you later, but in order for me to do that you need to be fed. I can’t have you passing out on me from overexertion.”

The grin that spread across Dean’s face was breathtaking. “Then I’ll be sure to eat up. Do you want to pick out a movie and prolong the torture you seem to be set on putting me through?”

“It’s only a couple of hours, Dean,” he said, moving out of the confines of Dean’s arms over to the DVD stand. Dean followed and sat down on the couch. “It’s not like you’ve been pining away; surely you’d like at least a little bit of anticipation.”

There was a long pause, and Castiel turned from browsing movies to see Dean fidgeting from his place on the couch.

“Dean?”

“I, uh,” Dean cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’ve sort of wanted you from the first day I met you. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I’m kind of fairly new to the whole ‘dating guys’ thing.” The blush that spread across his face was the most endearing thing Castiel had seen.

“So what you’re saying is,” Castiel murmured softly, walking over to Dean and straddling him on the couch, “you’ve been waiting too long and we should put the pizza and beer in the fridge and eat it later?”

Dean’s eyes flew up to meet Castiel’s. They stared at each other for a long moment before Dean said, “Oh, fuck yes,” and took Castiel’s mouth with his own.

Castiel let his hands roam everywhere. Dean had thick shoulders and a thick waist, and he felt really good when Castiel ground down against him. He crushed Castiel to his chest and licked and sucked his way into Castiel’s mouth. This was nothing like the sweet, unhurried kiss shared a few minutes ago. It was raw and needy, and Castiel was rock-hard in seconds.

He rolled his hips against Dean’s and began removing Dean’s shirts. “How many layers do you have?”

Dean pulled away just long enough to divest both of them of their tops before letting his hands trace across the planes of Castiel’s chest. He kissed along Castiel’s neck, murmuring, “Too many, babe. Let’s fix it.” Not moving his lips from Castiel’s neck, Dean stood, wrapped Castiel’s legs around his waist, and carried him into the bedroom to lay Castiel out beneath him. He took a step back and stared.

“I am the luckiest son of a bitch around, you know that Cas?” Dean ran his fingertips gently down Castiel’s torso, causing him to gasp. He sucked in a breath when Dean’s fingers played along the edge of his pants before unsnapping the button and pulling the zipper down.

Dean gently pulled the pants off and tossed them behind him somewhere. He leaned forward and nosed at Castiel’s erection before placing open-mouthed kisses along the shaft. Castiel pushed his hips upwards.

“Soon, baby,” Dean murmured, kissing his way back up Castiel’s torso and sliding out of his own jeans. He reached into the bedside drawer and removed a bottle of lube and a condom. He looked at Castiel. “Uh, I’m clean, I was just tested a few weeks ago and haven’t been with anyone since then. I was hoping…”

Castiel nodded. “Me, too, Dean. I’m clean. Come on, I want to feel all of you.”

“I, uh, don’t mind. If you. I mean, if you want to top, I’d be happy to…” Dean wasn’t meeting Castiel’s eyes.

Castiel sat up and ran a wicked hand down to stroke Dean’s cock. “You want me to fuck you, Dean?”

A dark gleam in Dean’s eye was the only warning he had before Cas was flat on his back again with Dean pressed right up against him. “Fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned into his mouth, hips starting up a rhythm and pushing down into Castiel. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. Make me yours.”

Castiel rolled them over and sucked a line of marks across Dean’s chest. He licked each spot as it bloomed and blew on it. He let his tongue and teeth play over Dean’s nipples, and once Dean was writing beneath him, he finally reached for the lube. Slathering up two fingers, he settled between Dean’s legs and traced one finger around his entrance. “Mine,” he growled, pushing the first finger in up to the knuckle.

Dean arched his hips up and swore. “Yeah, baby,” he whispered, touching Cas anywhere his hands could reach. “Wanted you for so long.”

Castiel licked a broad stripe up the underside of Dean’s cock, flicking his tongue against the head before sucking it into his mouth. Dean threw his head back. “Goddamn, Cas,” Dean whispered. “You feel so good sucking my cock.”

Bobbing his head in a quick rhythm, Castiel let his tongue flick over the head and let his hand work on what he couldn’t swallow down completely while his other hand worked two fingers in and out of Dean. He brushed across Dean’s prostate and moaned around his cock. It had been too long since he’d been able to wrap his lips around someone, and Dean’s had been the cock he’d been picturing for the past six months. He tasted like salt and sweat and whatever it was that made Dean Dean. It was delicious.

He added a third finger before pulling off so he could stare at Dean, whose throaty moans were making Castiel seriously doubt his ability to stave off his orgasm for any length of time once he was actually inside Dean. There was only one way to find out, though.

Castiel pulled his fingers out slowly and reached for the lube again. “You’re sure about this, Dean?” He knew that Dean would have stopped them if he were uncomfortable up until this point, but Castiel had always made a point to get continued consent from his partners.

“Yes, Cas. I want you inside me, about five minutes ago. Fill me up with your cock.” It made him feel even more wanted, knowing that he was the one responsible for the debauched look on Dean’s face. He lubed up his dick and pushed gently past the first ring of muscle, eyes glued to Dean’s face to make sure he wasn’t in pain.

Dean screwed up his face and let out the sexiest moan Castiel had ever heard. “Fuck, right there, baby,” he whispered. He didn’t wait for Castiel to bottom out before he started fucking himself down onto Castiel. This would be an appropriate time, Castiel thought, for the phrase _topping from the bottom_ to come into play.

“Harder, Cas, come on. You gonna fuck me or what?”

“You’re so bossy, Dean,” Castiel said. He picked up Dean’s legs and folded him in half before he began fucking him in earnest, hitting Dean’s prostate on every second or third thrust. He angled down a little bit, not wanting Dean to come yet, but getting himself closer every second.

“Kiss me.” They panted and moaned into each other’s mouths, tongues clashing and teeth almost drawing blood. Castiel felt his balls draw up tight—

“Fuck, Dean, I’m coming.” His hips stuttered and stilled as he emptied himself into Dean. He barely let himself finish before he was pulling out and grabbing the lube, motioning for Dean to sit up.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, watching Castiel pour a glob of lube into his hand before turning his back to Dean and reaching for Dean’s cock. He lubed it up, and without warning pushed back onto Dean, fitting just the head inside. Castiel grabbed the rest of Dean’s cock in his fist and started jacking it.

“Come inside me, Dean,” he said, setting a hard pace.

“Oh, fuck,” was all Dean could manage, breath coming in gasps as he gripped Castiel’s hips hard enough to bruise. Then, “Yeah, fuck Cas, yes, I’m close, feel so good, baby, I’m so close, _fuck_ —” Castiel rode him down through his orgasm before Dean pulled out and they collapsed on the bed next to each other.

“Oh my fucking god, dude,” Dean said. “I wish I had known you had _this_ in you. I’d have gotten over myself months ago and asked you out sooner.”

Castiel grinned and kissed Dean’s shoulder. “I take it you approve?”

“Yes, I fucking approve.” Dean rolled over and brought a hand up to cup Castiel’s cheek. He kissed him lightly. “I hope you don’t mind my presumption, but in about ten minutes I intend to blow you in the shower, then we can eat pizza, drink cheap beer, and fall asleep in front of the TV.”

Castiel’s eyes lit up. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do, Dean,” he said.

 

And if in the morning Castiel woke Dean up two hours too early with breakfast, well, at least he made up for it with fantastic wake-up sex.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, my lovelies! If I get a large enough positive response, I'd be willing to write a smutty second chapter (just for you). 
> 
> Many thanks to bettydays (sadrobots) for letting me bounce ideas off of her. And also to bert-and-ernie-are-gay for telling me not to go with the cheesiest ending. You two are the best.


End file.
